


James Potter: Drunk Playboy and Quidditch Star

by hillnerd



Series: Next Gen series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, quidditch player
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 03:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12926589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hillnerd/pseuds/hillnerd
Summary: James has an introspective evening.From series of one shots about Next Gen.





	James Potter: Drunk Playboy and Quidditch Star

James was bored. This was not something new for him. For most of his life, he had been bored. He had some fun with his family, and fun on a Quidditch field, but that was about it. Dancing, dinners, dates. Even the sex was getting boring. Some part of him enjoyed it, he supposed, but in the end nothing kept his interest for long.

"And then we spent forever at the photo shoot in bikinis in freezing temperatures. It's like they don't even know who I am or who I'm dating."

This. He hated this. Having to listen to hot chicks whine about how hard it was to be a model. That's it. He would have to spend the rest of his life on a broomstick in order to be happy. He was drunk and bored past midnight and didn't even want to have sex.

"James, are you even listening?"

"No."

"What?" she asked. Apparently he had offended her, given how angry she looked.

He sighed. Well, he could not say their relationship had ever been very enjoyable. She was nice to look at. Nice rack, despite being too skinny. She knew how to put on makeup really well. Without makeup she was a little weird looking, like a praying mantis, with eyes too big and too far apart. The sex had been ok.

She started to look at him as if she expected an answer to something. Crap, she had been talking again.

"Whatever, let's break up." James said, bored.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Sorry, Veronica."

"Vanessa!" she hissed before throwing a very strong syrupy cocktail in his face.

"You suck!" said Ver-Vanessa. She stormed out of the restaurant.

"Good one," said James before blearily starting to wipe the sticky drink off of his face.

Well, he should have waited until he was at their apartment before breaking up. Now it could be all over the press.

Shit. She was probably going to destroy his apartment. She wouldn't be the first girl to do it. Probably wouldn't be the last either. Perhaps he should have taken a vow of celibacy like his brother Al. Well, Al hadn't taken a vow, but he might as well have since he never seemed to get pussy.

His Muggle waitress came over and gave him more napkins. She knew he was rich and tried to flirt with him. He left the restaurant holding her number on a slip of paper. She was sexy, for sure. He dropped the slip of paper as soon as he got outside the restaurant door, though.

He just did not care enough to put up with this dating crap, plus he didn't have a phone. He just wanted to go home and sleep, but Veronica would be there- No, Vanessa was this one's name. He needed to know her name in case someone asked about her. Veronica was the one before last. He desperately wanted to go home, but knew he'd probably have his set of dumbbells spelled at his head for doing it.

He couldn't go to his parents. His mum had been giving him enough crap about his 'philandering'. He couldn't go to Fred's, since he had a girlfriend now, and he knew she judged him for all the girls he went through. Al? He'd rather die than see the smug look on his face. No family.

Friends? He was usually drunk at their places, and so had no idea how to get there. He was a bit drunk now, actually. He probably was not good to Apparate.

Stay out? He didn't have the energy.

Knight Bus? Hah! Like his stomach could take it. At least at the restaurant was mostly Muggles. If he threw up on the bus, there would be pictures for sure.

He didn't have any Muggle money for a hotel or cab. He just had a running tab at the restaurant his assistant would pay off.

His assistant! Amelia! That's who he could crash with. The only person he knew who lived near here was his assistant. He had been to her building a few times, over the years. They had worked together for about two years, and she was most definitely indispensable. She never seemed to flirt with him, which had always secretly irked him, but she was really smart, which made her a perfect assistant.

Most of the assistants he'd had before idolized him, but were dumb,hot and really good lays. From the get go she had informed him, though a bit shyly, not to try anything. Not that he would, since she dressed like a librarian and thought reading a book was an evening well spent.

She was the most awkward human he knew. She wore black rimmed glasses, ponytails and shoes with pandas on them. She never really drank, which was weird. He always felt guilty when he screwed up in front of her. She was one of those nice girls who did not get angry, just disappointed. She was probably a virgin who had never been kissed.

He walked to her place rather quickly, despite his blurred vision. Besides being a touch drunk, his contacts had dried up, so he had to take them out. He didn't trust himself to spell a new set, and never had his glasses with him, as there was nothing more lame than wearing glasses.

He finally found the correct building, and made it to the building's front door. Then he was stuck trying to decipher names on the buzzers to let him upstairs. It was hard to make out which of the flats was hers without glasses. Ah! That looked like an 'A.' It was in the green ink she wrote in most of the time.

He buzzed her buzzer a few times before he heard a sleepy "Hello?"

"Hey Amelia."

"James? Why are you at my apartment?"

"I'll explain inside."

"It's one in the morning," she said slowly.

"Please," James replied. He wasn't used to having to ask for things. There was a brief moment where he thought she might say no. He couldn't blame her, really.

"Fine, come up," she said buzzing him in.

He went up the stairs to find Amelia waiting at the door. She was in pajama trousers covered in pandas (always the pandas), and a tight black spaghetti strap tee. She didn't look like she was wearing a bra. Dressed like this he could actually see she was pretty fit.

"Come in," she said shutting the door behind him. She must have realized how low cut her top was because she blushed and put on a bulky knit cardigan that covered most of her up.

"So, why are you here?" she asked, looking concerned rather than mad.

"Yours was the only place I could go," said James looking around the apartment. From what he could tell, it was pretty nice inside. Tons of books. Smelled like clean laundry.

"You have a lot of books," he said squinting.

"You need your glasses, don't you? I squint like that when I need mine," she said with a sigh. She gave a shake of her head then started going through her magically expanded purse she always had with her. "Here we go."

"I don't want to," James said stubbornly, rubbing at his eyes. He went to sit on her couch.

"Don't do that!" she called out waving her hand. She was usually mild mannered, so having her suddenly yell at him was unexpected. "Sorry. You're covered in something sticky and I just got that couch. From that birthday bonus you gave me! Thank you for that by the way. Do you want me to clean your shirt?"

James shook his head. He would just throw it away.

"Put the glasses on. I'll get you a t-shirt to wear."

He put down the glasses and removed his shirt, fumbling a bit with the buttons, and wadded it into a ball.

"Where's the trash bin?"

"In the kitchen next to the sink," she called form the other room.

He deftly chucked it in, and turned to see Amelia looking on aghast.

"That looked like a very expensive shirt!"

"It was," he said with a shrug. She rolled her eyes.

"Right. You'd think I'd be used to that sort of stuff after two years. Here's my ex's t-shirt and pajama trousers," she said tossing them to him, as if she didn't want to get too close.

"Your ex? When was this?"

"A few months ago."

"I didn't know you were even dating anyone."

"I didn't tell you," she shrugged.

He undid his trousers and let them drop to the floor. Amelia let out a gasp and turned around.

"So, erm, why is it you're here again?" she asked, looking at the ceiling.

"Vanessa is probably trashing my place right now. We're finished. I'll buy you something nice for this, how's that sound?" said James putting on the glasses. She was still turned around, but now he could make out her flush. Most people would give their molars to see him half-dressed, but not good old-fashioned Amelia. He smiled. "You can turn around."

"Ok!" she said, turning around and biting her lip. "You know, I've never seen you wear your glasses. I had them in case of emergencies, but I figured you'd never wear them. It's different."

"I look like a nerdy wanker in these," he replied, sitting on the couch.

"Oh," she said pushing her own glasses up her nose. James realized this might have come across as insulting her.

"You look good in them though. Glasses, I mean."

"Thanks. I like you in glasses. I think you look quite smart," she said sitting in a chair across from the couch. James was used to compliments, but there was something about her earnestness and lack of sex on the brain that made this stand out to him. Frankly, it was odd being around non-family females who he had no intention of seducing.

"Sooo, what happened with Vanessa?" she asked.

James let out a sigh.

"Same as usual. She just blends in with the rest of them. Boring and dumb."

"You deserve someone better than her anyways," Amelia replied earnestly.

James wasn't sure how to react to that. He was confident about his looks, and skills, but as far as being a good person... Well, he wasn't a dark wizard or anything, but he knew he wasn't that great of a person. Most people just rolled his eyes when he talked or said anything, and called him shallow. Maybe he was shallow.

"Are you ok?" she asked. He must have been silent for a while.

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm ok," he said with a sigh. He wasn't sure why he wanted to hear more on the matter. It was probably the alcohol. "What makes you think I deserve better than Vanessa?"

"Can I be honest?" she asked.

"Of course," James said with a wave of his hand.

"Well, you drink too much, have way to much sex and keep up this rich guy playboy act all the time."

"You're making me sound like a real catch," said James dully, leaning further back into the couch.

"Wait wait... Sorry, I should not have begun with that. It's just- you put out so much bravado, but I get to see moments where you aren't like that. You're honest- too honest, really. I have never once seen you lie to anyone."

James supposed that much was true.

"And you might waste a lot of money, but you're also generous with it. And you care about your family a lot."

James nodded.

"Plus you're rather intelligent. It's no wonder you get bored with those girls. They couldn't keep up."

James let out a mirthless laugh. No one in his whole life had ever called him intelligent. His family had a whole lot of geniuses, and he was definitely not one of them. He was known as a shallow, brainless jock. Even his own parents had never called him anything akin to clever. But there was Amelia, earnestly saying he was smart.

"Like I said. You deserve better."

"I'm not so sure I do," James said. He wasn't sure why he said that out loud. He was not so sure of anything. His life was the kind people envied, and thought was perfect. Sure, his abs were perfect, and he got all the tail a man could ask for. His paychecks were now embarrassingly large, and he was the most popular Quidditch player ever, basically. Something about it was strangely empty, though.

"Why wouldn't you deserve better?" Amelia asked, looking perplexed. James imagined most everyone he knew thought he deserved empty headed bimbos.

"I'm not exactly a good or deep person, by most people's standards."

"Then they don't know you well," Amelia firmly stated.

James had no idea how Amelia could think well of him. She saw him at his most drunk, those times when he had taken two girls home at once, and knew how much money he wasted. Amelia was the best person he knew, he was certain. For some reason, she and his gran were the only two women he knew who could make him feel embarrassed for his behavior.

"For some reason... you seem to like me, so that must be something," James said laying his head back on the couch again.

"I like you when you are yourself. I wish I got to see more of you, and less of 'James Potter, drunk playboy and Quidditch star." You're much smarter than you act, you know, and probably the most honest person I know."

James supposed that last part was true. The only time he lied was to cover up for other people. He never saw the point in faking what he thought or did. What was the point? He had no one to impress. Yet his whole life seemed like some fake show, where he just go through the motions again and again, without ever feeling whole.

James shook his head. He was full of self-pity, and it felt ridiculous.

"Are you ok, James?"

No. No he wasn't. He did not know why, but he had never been less ok in his life. He didn't dare say anything. It felt ridiculous for him to complain to his nerdy assistant about how 'tough his life was.'

He was sorely tempted to answer her. If there was anyone willing to listen to him and not be completely judgmental, it was Amelia. She was rather pretty, even with those glasses she always wore. She had an adorable natural pout to her lips that was somewhat addictive to look at.

"You think I'm better than empty headed skanks?" he said, eyeing her lips.

"Uh, I would not put it that way, personally," Amelia half-stuttered. "But yes, I think you could do better than the somewhat mean girls you have dated lately."

"Bitches, the lot of them," James said with a grand gesture. He glanced over to Amelia's eye. She looked flustered. He smirked.

"You always get so nervous when I swear," he said putting a hand up to temple and pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"It's when you use the word bitches so cavalierly. It's a sexist word that demeans all women, because you are using a gendered insult. It's a stereotype that all 'bitchy' behavior is female, so by using that term you are reinforcing that women are lesser than men or something. Casual misogyny is the most pervasive type in our society now," Amelia babbled.

"I'll try to stop that, then," said James resolutely. Her woolly sweater had fallen a bit off one of her shoulders. He had never noticed how smooth her skin looked. He wanted to touch it. "No more using bitch around my Amelia."

"Your Amelia?" she asked. She gave a nervous swallow as James gave in and touched her skin along the edge of her sweater.

"Sorry, was that sexist too?" James asked leaning in close to her pouting lips. "Want to reform me?"

He leaned in a bit closer to explore those hypnotizing lips. He closed his eyes but stopped when he heard a gasp. He opened his eyes to see Amelia was looking at him with a look of shock. She looked like she might want to kiss him, or cry, or punch him... He was not sure which. He could read women really easily, but right now, he had no idea what was going on in her mind. She looked scared.

"Reform me in misogyny, I mean," James said, pulling her sweater up and scooting a bit away from Amelia. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Amelia. She was too sweet. Had he almost kissed her? She deserved better than that. She deserved better than him. She needed a nice bloke who treated her well, who was as smart as her, and who wasn't a drunk arse. "I probably have a ton of bad habits in misogyny..."

She seemed relieved and let out a sigh.

"James," she said with a forced smile. "You're drunk and it's late. If you want to talk about it in the morning, that's great, but we need to go to bed now."

She raised from her seat, pushed a button on the side of her couch and it magically converted into a small bed. James was now flat on his back.

"There are many times I could have used that feature on my couch," James said dully.

"Good night, James" Amelia said with a small laugh, turning out the lights closest to the couch.

He had no chance with a girl like Amelia, but maybe he could try to change.

She turned into her hallway.

"Amelia?"

"Yes?" she asked, sticking her head out.

He wanted to tell her he could change. He wanted her to know he could be better.

"I-", he hesitated. "I'll make you breakfast in the morning, for your trouble."

"How about brunch, I'm exhausted and could use the lie in."

"Yeah, brunch. Very adult."

"Ok... Goodnight, James," she said going down the hall, turning out the light, and going to her bedroom.

"Goodnight, Amelia."


End file.
